


Meno mosso (Tempo rubato)

by emotionalsupportfastcars



Series: Sonata for Violin and Piano in G minor [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Charles Leclerc wears an Armani suit, Duet, How to fall in love with someone while dueting with them, How to pine over someone by pouring your heart into your instrument as you duet with them, M/M, Music, Musicians, Pianist!Charles, Pining, Suits, Violinist!Pierre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalsupportfastcars/pseuds/emotionalsupportfastcars
Summary: Tempo rubato.Literally translated, it means ‘stolen time.’But in music,tempo rubatomeans that the composer has given the musician a certain degree of freedom. Freedom to modify the tempo — speeding up then slowing down, all at the musician’s discretion. And one of Debussy’s axioms is that no matter what, the music should keep flowing — flexible and unbroken.As a soloist, playingtempo rubatois easy because you’re in complete control of your performance.But to playtempo rubatoin perfect time with another person, such that the music pouring out of your respective instruments melds together in a complementary bouquet of voices...---In which Charles is a pianist, Pierre is a violinist, and they're studying at the Royal College of Music. They're also playing a duet.Or: The classical music AU that fell out of me over several increasingly feral hours.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Series: Sonata for Violin and Piano in G minor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147031
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Meno mosso (Tempo rubato)

It starts, as it always does, with Charles playing the ‘A’ above middle C and Pierre tuning his violin to that note.

Concert pitch. The pitch that a group of musicians will tune their instruments to. And in this case, as it is most of the time, they tune to the ‘A’ at 440 Hertz, better known as A440. 

Violin tuned, Pierre draws his bow over its four open strings to listen how they sound in relation to each other.

G, D, A, E. All four pitches match. Each a perfect fifth apart. 

Pierre nods at Charles and gets himself into position. He stands tall and his violin rests on his collarbone, supported by both his shoulder and his left hand. His bow is in his right hand, lifted and ready. Ready to play the first phrase.

Charles sits at the piano, his fingers curved over the first chord. The first chord of a three-movement violin sonata.

They lock eyes. Poised and ready for action. Pierre waits for Charles to indicate the tempo. The tempo is the speed at which a piece of music should be played. Charles tilts his head up just a little more, nods the tempo for two bars, and begins.

Two soft, sweet chords. And then, as Charles' eyes fall to his fingers and he repeats the chords, Pierre’s violin slips in, quietly speaking the main melodic theme.

 _Dolce espressivo._ Sweet and expressive.

From a technical point of view, the first part is relatively easy. The hard part is getting the emotions just right and conveying them to the listener. Making the listener _feel_ the music, exactly as it should be felt. 

And so, as Pierre makes his violin sing sweetly, gradually increasing and decreasing its volume as per Debussy’s directions, he lets his mind drift to related memories, letting their emotions colour his playing.

Pierre's already anticipating the next part. The musical direction that always makes his heart beat a little faster.

 _Tempo rubato._ Literally translated, it means ‘stolen time.’ 

But in music, _tempo rubato_ means that the composer has given the musician a certain degree of freedom. Freedom to modify the tempo — speeding up then slowing down, all at the musician’s discretion. And one of Debussy’s axioms is that no matter what, the music should keep flowing — flexible and unbroken.

As a soloist, playing _tempo rubato_ is easy because you’re in complete control of your performance. 

But to play _tempo rubato_ in perfect time with another person, such that the music pouring out of your respective instruments melds together in a complementary bouquet of voices...

It’s one of their hardest sections. So far, whenever they nail the musical and emotional tension, they're slightly out of sync with each other. And whenever they're perfectly in sync, the emotions are off and the level of musical tension they both so desperately want disappears.

As they begin that section, Pierre keeps his eyes on Charles’ fingers. He knows that Charles is doing the same thing to him. Both of them watching each other.

From their instruments' music, their respective movements, and the musical tension in their shared air, Pierre senses exactly how much to speed up and how much to slow down. He knows that Charles is doing the same. 

Back to the original tempo. Then, _tempo rubato_ again. And finally, back to the original tempo.

For once, Pierre is satisfied. They played it exactly the way he's always imagined it, and they were perfectly in sync.

And now, back to long held notes. _Pianissimo._ Very quietly.

Pierre’s thoughts drifts back to _tempo rubato_ because this entire project is _tempo rubato_ in the sense of ‘stolen time’. Because this isn’t a piece they’re practicing for school. They’re not even practicing this for a competition or a recital.

The only reason they’re playing this is because one sunny day, Charles wandered up to Pierre with a well-worn book in his hand and asked whether Pierre had heard of Debussy’s violin sonata.

No. Pierre hadn't heard of that piece. It was probably because Debussy composed very few pieces for the violin. Thus, while Pierre had listened to and attended numerous performances of Debussy’s pieces, he had only played one Debussy piece. The string quartet. Two years ago.

But the book in Charles’ hand was clearly the music score, so Pierre held out his hand for it.

‘It’s lovely,’ said Pierre, reading the notes. His practiced eyes were already mentally mapping out the sonata’s structure and luxuriating in its intricate melodies. “When did he write this?”

“At the end of his life. It’s the last piece he wrote before he died.”

“I see. Have you played it?”

“Alone, yes.” And then, Charles glanced at Pierre with furtive eyes and a nervous expression and asked that fateful question. “Do you... do you want to try playing it with me?”

Pierre had yet to finish reading through the score, but he readily agreed.

After all, Charles played beautifully, and the only things more beautiful than the sound of one well-played instrument... were the sounds of more than one well-played instrument, each contributing their part to the whole.

And so Pierre and Charles stole time to practice by themselves and to practice together. They stole time from activities like playing computer games and lying in bed staring at the ceiling. And though neither of them admitted it, they both knew that they also stole from time that should’ve been spent practicing their respective pieces for school.

And somewhere along the way, during this precious, stolen practice time, Pierre was eventually forced to admit to himself that the way his heart sped up whenever Charles smiled at him both in and out of practice rooms, the way his breath caught in his throat whenever they tried recording the sonata together and Charles was wearing one of his suits because they always dressed as though this was an official performance, and finally, the way Pierre tried to play just that much better whenever Charles was around in the hope of seeing Charles light up before complimenting a particularly well-bowed section once Pierre was done playing...

All these things pointed to Pierre having fallen in love.

Which was absolutely the stupidest thing to do when Pierre was aiming for a career in performance art. Because being technically perfect at his instrument was the basic requirement for a career in music.

What set great musicians apart from everyone else was that elusive thing called musicality — the way a musician interpreted a piece of music and transmitted those emotions to their colleagues and to the audience.

After all, it was a beautiful interpretation of a sonata that had brought Pierre into the world of classical music.

Pierre was watching a performance on television. And while he was fascinated by the way the two musicians worked together, it was not the large piano that caught his eye but the other small instrument. How could something so small make so many different sounds?

His parents, when asked, said that the small instrument was a violin.

One month later, Pierre had a quarter-sized violin and spent hours desperately trying to replicate those sounds and failing spectacularly. His violin sounded like a dying chicken.

Years later, he learnt that the piece was Prokofiev’s Violin Sonata No. 1 and that the violinist was Sarah Chang.

Today, Pierre studies at the Royal College of Music — one of the best conservatories in the world.

It’s the last part of the first movement and Pierre concentrates to keep his ever-changing notes perfectly in sync with Charles' before Pierre launches into his short solo. And then, they play the final chords together as one.

They play the last chord forcefully and shortly as per Debussy’s directions — _marcato e staccato_. A short, silent exhale to catch their breaths, and a second to let that chord fade into silence. A few more seconds to mentally move themselves into the headspace for the next movement.

And once again, their eyes lock together. Charles lifts his head, nodding the tempo, and they’re off into the second movement, Pierre’s violin leading the way.

 _Intermède. Fantasque et léger._ Interlude. Whimsical and light.

A quick dance together and then, a waterfall of notes and a series of solo trills on Pierre's violin that lead to a short cadenza-like passage. A cadenza is a difficult, ornamental passage, purposely written to allow the soloist to display their musical virtuosity.

Pierre loves this part and knows that he plays it beautifully. But now, with Charles smiling and watching him, Pierre plays just that little bit better. His notes shimmer and shine with just a little more inspiration.

He finishes his cadenza, playing its last few notes slowly and softly, and Charles meets him on the final chord.

A slight pause, and they’re off to the next section.

Charles bops his head in time to his slower chords. All while Pierre’s violin rushes on, bouncing all over the place.

 _Scherzando._ Playful. Charles breaks into a grin even as he concentrates — _hard_ — on his fingers as they jump around in a complicated series of chords — each with its own emotional nuance thanks to Debussy’s extensive musical directions.

Pierre matches Charles’ chords with his own playful notes, all the while knowing that he’s falling for Charles again, falling harder.

They finish the section and move on to the next one.

And then, back to _scherzando_. Playful. And Charles has a soft, teasing smile on his face as he briefly glances up at Pierre, and oh — doesn’t Charles look absolutely _delightful_ in the Armani suit that he’s wearing? His white slim-cut shirt with a sharp collar contrasts sharply with his jet-black bow tie and fitted jacket and equally well-fitted trousers, which themselves contrast sharply against Charles’ fair skin.

And of _course_ , Pierre knows that the way Charles looks at him doesn’t mean anything other than ‘Charles is expressing the piece's emotions.’ Because everyone knows that in order to properly play a piece of music, you have to truly inhabit it. 

You start by examining the piece from a structural point of view — the different sections and their harmonies and melodies.

And then, once you’ve a good sense of the technical and structural parts, you look at the emotional side of the piece. You follow the piece, submerging yourself in its various metamorphoses. Because if you play without emotion and nuance, you play like a robot and if you’re just playing like a robot, you might as well let some automated midi software play everything for you.

And if you’re playing the work of someone as expressive as _Debussy_ — he who composed so many mesmerising pieces of music based on some of the most beautiful poetry Pierre has ever read, it’s only natural that you’ll feel — really feel — the emotions that the piece evokes. And the stronger you feel those emotions, the more they tend to appear on your face. 

In all the time that Pierre has known Charles, Charles has always been expressive. He has zero poker face.

But just for a moment — Pierre lets himself believe that the reason Charles is looking at him with such teasing softness is because Charles is in love with him. And Pierre takes the resulting joy he feels and feeds off it. Uses it to power his lilting melody. Smiles as he sways from side to side, infusing his music with sweet contentment.

Because if Pierre can’t have Charles curling up with him in bed as he rests from another hard day of practice and falls asleep thinking of the sounds he’s coaxed from his beloved violin, at least he can have Charles’ music curling up with his own music, here in the practice rooms of the conservatory.

The second movement ends with Charles’ sustained chords forming the base for Pierre’s rapid melody, which slows down before dying away into nothing. _Morendo._

A pause, another meeting of eyes, another few bars of Charles silently nodding the tempo, and they launch into the third and final movement.

 _Très animé._ Very lively.

It opens by imitating the first movement. However, this time, Charles’ fingers dance all over the piano instead of holding down sustained chords. Pierre’s violin repeats the main melody from the first movement with a slight difference in emotion before diverging altogether into a variation. 

And then, the sonata breaks into what Debussy called a ‘tumultuous joy.’ Pierre revels in the joyous dance for two as his and Charles’ fingers fly all over their instruments, the emotion of their music ever-changing thanks to Debussy’s detailed musical directions.

Their speed keeps changing, as does their volume. Very soft. Louder. Louder. Softer. Louder again.

A breathless spin to the end of the penultimate section, which they navigate together, their notes interlacing together like interlocking puzzle pieces. Pierre bows his strings at exactly the same moment that Charles presses his keys.

Together, they reach the final chord. And together, they lift their hands from their instruments.

For a few seconds, complete silence for both the violin and the piano.

Long enough for Charles to tilt his head upwards and backwards, fixing his eyes on Pierre.

And then, Charles inhales visibly but silently, and plays the notes that will lead them to the sonata’s final, frantic end.

Pierre sways in time to the music as he joins Charles, his body on autopilot because he can't tear his eyes away from Charles. He isn’t looking at Charles’ hands or fingers to watch what Charles is playing.

Instead, Pierre is gazing at _Charles_.

Charles, who continues to gaze straight back at Pierre while playing his part entirely from muscle memory.

Pierre, too, is playing from muscle memory. His body moves automatically, dancing on the spot and calling upon years of painstaking and exacting technical work. Meanwhile, Pierre's conscious mind focuses on getting the emotional part of the piece _just_ right, maintaining the musical tension, and making sure that he is completely in sync with Charles, even as the music's speed and mood changes.

Charles plays on in a steady rhythm as Pierre’s fingers move impossibly fast, trilling nonstop for just over three bars. Five thirty-second notes, all in a crescendo, getting increasingly louder. Repeat. And then, four short trills. Two chords —

And they’re done. Their final, forceful chord hangs in the air. 

Pierre only lowers his violin once that final chord has faded into complete silence.

He exhales silently, a mirror of Charles' silent inhalation at the start of that final section.

That performance was... something.

“What do you think?” asks Charles, as he continues to gaze at Pierre. In the harsh white light of the practice room, Charles’ eyes sparkle.

I think you're perfect — the way your fingers dance over the keys, the way you move your upper body in time to the music even though you're completely seated, the way your expression changes as the mood of the piece changes even though I’m the only one who’s close enough to see your face.

I think you’re perfect — the way every single one of your stupidly expensive made-to-measure Armani suits fits you like a glove, the way the sharp lines of your crisp white shirt and fitted black jacket contrast perfectly against each other and emphasise both your shoulders and your waist, the way I want to slip my arm around your waist while my other arm slips around your shoulders to hold you close and make you smile and kiss you because I —

I think you're perfect — the way you inhale and tilt your head backwards and gaze straight up at me as though I'm the only thing you ever want to look at, all while your fingers play out the piece’s final climax in perfect synchrony with my violin, and you don't even look at what you’re playing because you don't need to... 

“I think it's perfect,” says Pierre, aloud. “ _This_ is the recording.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Suits**  
>  \- Charles in Armani, playing the piano. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcD83LLGnvg  
> \- Pierre, Charles, and other drivers in suits in [this gifset](https://whatdidwejustdo.tumblr.com/post/637948424280506368/f1-drivers-in-suits)
> 
>  **Music**  
>  \- Sarah Chang is a professional violinist and a child prodigy. Her performance of Prokofiev’s Violin Sonata No. 1 is on YouTube.  
> \- Charles and Pierre play Debussy’s violin sonata, which is where the series title comes from. This performance also shows the music score https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6p1HDpf48Tg. IMSLP has a downloadable version.  
> \- Debussy is a famous French composer. You might know his _Clair de Lune_ from movies.  
> \- The title is from a musical direction in the sonata’s music score. _Meno mosso_ means ‘less quickly.’ In the fic, Pierre explains _tempo rubato_.  
> \- Each part Pierre thinks about corresponds to a specific part of the sonata. Every single musical direction is from the sonata's music score and in chronological order. Feel free to ask more even if you don't know anything about music - I'll gladly explain it.  
> \- Writing and editing this for musical accuracy almost broke my brain. 11/10 would do again.
> 
>  **Thanks**  
>  \- To scarletred, sufferingcereal, and iwastemytimereading for all your encouragement and feedback. Thanks to the discord for general encouragement.  
> \- to F for reading my very first snippet and reading dozens of messages as I grew increasingly feral trying to write what is essentially ‘program notes and feels and technical analysis about a sonata, mixed with some backstory and endless pining’.
> 
> I started this with the last two lines of dialogue, one long sentence of pining, and zero clue about Pierre’s instrument. Still can’t believe it turned into _this_.
> 
> And to you, the reader, as usual, thanks for reading. Please feel free to ask any questions, especially about classical music. Even if you don't know anything about music or classical music. I will gladly explain. 
> 
> Comments and kudos make me so happy and encourage me to keep writing. <3 Tumblr: @whatdidwejustdo.


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